A Painted Face
by The Silent Dreamcatcher
Summary: A young male geisha has to mask his true identity behind a white face with red lips to survive in the turbulent world of deceiving women, corrupt men and a love interest that is never to be. Along the path towards freedom he slowly turns into what he despises, with a few broken hearts along the way. But everything is worth it when having tea with mister wealthy and his fortune.
1. Prologue

A Painted Face.

Prologue.

Itachi stood on the small balcony on the roof of the house filled with women and took a deep breath of fresh air. In the six years he's been there, he still couldn't call the blooming town of Kanazawa his home. His home was on the river banks his parents had their little shack and tried to give their sons a good life based on nothing but the straining occupation of fishing. He could remember it well, since he was already nine years old when his father sold him off to the city. And so he learned the hard way that maintaining them with nothing but a small boat and net was an impossible task.

The rows after rows of red and black roofs that spread as far and wide as he could see, and never failed to install fear into the pit of his stomach. This town had scarred him. It brought him just as much joy as pain, and for as long as he could remember his existence had been a struggling one. But all the conflicts going on in his mind were put on hold when he painted his face white and his lips red, the colours of the Japanese flag, the colours of his alter persona.

When he painted his face he belonged, he was loved, and he was wanted and desired. He could force himself to know this town, to become a part of it, but it would never become a part of him. He had to fight to protect his beloved from it, and fight he did. Because when his mother drowned in the muddy waters of a river whose nature seemed second to his own, his father lost himself with her. Every time he looked at his sons face she was all he saw, and thusly he sent him away.

Itachi was sold to a house where young girls were used as the matron's slave, and as a reward were trained in the most beautiful profession of all. The one of the painted face. Had he been older, or looked more boyish, the old woman surely would have sold him off to one of the child prostitution rings. But his long ebony hair, flawlessly pale skin and deep black eyes swayed her. After all, who would sell a diamond, without chiselling it first? His brother was not so lucky, though they looked similar to the point where it was scary, Sasuke had been no older that three years old, far too young to be of use to the matron.

The older of the two had to beg on his knees with his face to the floor and tears on his cheeks to keep he only family he had left. But she was a heartless woman, family meant nothing to her. Her own family sold her into prostitution when she was too young to even understand what it meant, and both loved and hated the young girls she took in herself. She raised them, trained them, found them a 'big sister' and became a motherly figure to them all. But she cared not for them, only for the share of the money they earned with their practices. So when the young boy offered her to pay back any money she ever spent on him and his little brother, she couldn't possibly refuse.

From that day on, Itachi's life was hell. There were no boys in this profession of pleasing men, only girls and young women, only the beautiful. Only the talented, hardworking and strong made it through the long and arduous training. He himself remembered that simply because he was a male he had to work even harder, and had to be even more gracious and perfect in their ways; the geisha ways. Cross-dressing was not a common thing, and certainly not something people were publicly accepting off, but his looks and soft voice favoured him. Most men never even noticed that he wasn't of their desired gender. They longed for his company, and he gladly obliged.

Sasuke's life was the exact opposite. The matron pampered him, stuffed him with food and bought him the most expensive clothes. The little boy gladly accepted all this, never having been spoiled this much in his life, and Itachi only watched with a smile. Yes, he would have to pay for all these things, probably with his body even, but it was worth seeing his little brother happy. And the other occupants of the house soon caught on that it was impossible to upset the new student through his sibling, no matter the sacrifice he had to make for him.

"Aniki? Are you up there?" a voice asked from inside the house. Itachi decided not to answer and climbed on top of the small water reservoir every okiya in this district seemed to own. Their okiya, or geisha house, was a small one. Compared to the massive clusters of buildings theirs was easily overlooked. Which was lucky for them, since males were strictly forbidden from entering this world of women. He could never raise his voice in public, and he and Sasuke always had to wear female clothes and cover their face around others, something he little boy never understood and Itachi didn't have the heart to explain.

The sun was setting, it would be time for dinner soon and he would be expected to get the groceries, as always. "Aniki?" Sasuke pushed open the hatch and climbed up onto the small balcony with his brother, only to get shushed immediately. "Hush Sasuke! I told you not to call me that, what if someone heard you calling me your big brother? Do you want to destroy our future?" the now nine year old boy hurriedly shook his head and clamped his hand over his own mouth. "Sorry 'Tachi, I keep forgetting." The elder ruffled his little copy's hair and hopped back on top of the wooden water reservoir, pulling the other up after him. They sat in silence for a bit. Sasuke had grown; he wasn't as innocent anymore as his protective big brother wanted him to be, thanks to the spiteful women in the house who told him horrific stories of their mizuage. A subject he wasn't quite clear on himself, and didn't want to be. Besides, his big sister told him he would find out soon enough.

"Sasuke, could you get the groceries today? I have a very important client planned for tonight and still need to get ready." It was true, and he was nervous; Konan, his mentor and the only decent woman he'd met around here told him to be on his best tonight, and that took some preparation. And of course the little raven was only too excited to help his big brother out, and within moments Itachi had a kiss pressed to his cheek and the kid stormed off on his quest. After a few more minutes of gazing over the city and drinking in the last of the sun's rays, the fifteen year-old slid off the wooden frame and headed downstairs. The time had come to paint his face once more.


	2. Chapter One

A Painted Face.

Chapter One.

"Wear this one tonight, I know I told you never to touch it but… well, it's a special occasion." Konan mentioned over to the wooden box that sat innocently on the dresser while she pinned Itachi's hair up. She let some strands of the arduously taken care of black mass fall around his face and shoulders. This wasn't a common hairstyle for geisha's, but it accented his features and none of the customers seemed to be bothered by it. Some even sneakily tried to touch it sometimes, not that he'd allow them. His job was not a physical one, and in a world where a display of the wrists was a highly risky and erotic gesture any form of touching was naturally prohibited.

There were, of course, women who did perform certain services besides their arts of dance and conversation, among all the other skills they possessed, but he would rather drown in the filthy sewer water than become some filthy, perverted old man's whore. It seemed to pay well though; those women always wore the highest quality face paint and most beautiful kimono. There was only one woman who outdid them in attire and beauty, Konan, his mentor. She was the most desired of them all, the most skilled and the cleverest too. That was the only thing he didn't like about her. She never cared for him; her helping him along was just a part in her great big game. He was a pawn and had to be happy about it.

"What's in it?" He hardly ever asked her anything but couldn't help himself, he was curious. She chuckled and pinned the rest of his hair in place with small combs, he loved those combs. They were the size of a fingertip and each had a pearl imbedded in it. "Wouldn't you like to know! Tonight you're entertaining some of the wealthiest men in the country, they're only here for one night but we could really cash in on them so be good." She showed him the fakest smile he'd ever seen.

"Come here." He went. The oil lamps that kept the small room lit cast dark shadows around them as she opened the box. Inside was a soft, silky fabric, which revealed itself to be a kimono when she lifted it out. "This was the first kimono I bought with my own money, it's very precious to me so be careful with it. Now, try it on." He got lucky compared to this woman; she had no geisha training at all when she was little. When her mom died she was left alone in the world and scoured the streets to survive. One day she snuck into the training grounds to see what was going on and taught herself those skills to try and make money off them.

Of course the kind of men who employ little girls to entertain them are not the same kind that he usually met, so that's the time she developed her mind for schemes. She became a master of manipulation and knew just how to get what she wanted out of people, and get it she did.

Before putting on the clothes that were probably worth more than both their lives he painted his face, not with his own powder but with hers. It covered every little flaw his skin bore and weighed next to nothing, it seemed such measures were deemed necessary for this night. So he carefully painted his lips red, made them a little fuller than they really were, and drew a thin line of black on his eyelids to accentuate the dark pools they covered.

She painted his eyelashes for him so they wouldn't be smirched and drew on his eyebrows. He never really understood why, she plucked them for him too, so really she just drew back on what the white paint covered. "Who am I entertaining exactly?" he dared to ask while she was preoccupied with tying his waistband in a knot on his back. "Just some businessmen, nothing to worry about. You'll do fine." Such a liar she was, but he couldn't call her out on it now, not while she gave him such a thing to wear. As she turned him to the grand mirror his breath got stuck in his throat, like it always did when he saw himself in this getup.

But this was different; normally he was able to see some of himself in his reflection, some things that he needed to hide. But no this time, the kimono was blood red, a daring colour for a maiko, a geisha in training. He was used to wearing pinks and greens, innocent and playful colours. But this was a seductresses robe. Black embroidery ran up from its sleeves and the waistband displayed large black flowers. The person looking back at him was different from the one that he knew hid underneath the paint. His eyes seemed darker and more ominous than he felt them to be, his lips a deeper, more sinful red. "Let's go my sweet, time to work." He slipped on his sandals and followed her out the door and into the dark streets.

The night air was sure to be cold, but with all the layers of clothing he wore he hardly noticed it. They came to the teahouse, and passed it. As he followed his guide into the maze of streets he'd never been before he begun to worry. Where were they going? There were hardly any streetlamps, and the number of bars kept increasing the further they went, as did the number of brothels. Surely she wouldn't take him to such a seedy part of town because the decided he didn't bring in enough money… would she? He looked at the form that walked before him; she was dressed just like he was, with her hair up the same way and her face painted too.

And even in his current predicament he took pride in knowing that he was nearly as skilled in the arts as she was, and that her looks could never compare to his. One of the other geisha's in the house once told him that a true geisha can make a man loose his ways just by glancing at him, that strength of the mind showed in the eyes. He almost bumped into Konan when she suddenly stopped, but composed himself perfectly, as he was taught to. "We're here, follow me." She entered a tall, dark building with a single sign by the door. It was a stripping joint and gambling hall, what kind of business men were they?

As he followed her through the narrow hallway as she'd instructed he did become a little afraid. The music that was playing was not one he was accustomed to, it had a deep beat and made his head pound, and he figured this was the kind of music the fallen women danced to. She stopped in front of a rice paper door and slid it open. He entered the room after her and felt relieved, the music was dampened here and it was just a three-sided table with three men around it playing some card game.

"Everyone, meet my protégé, Aimi. Pretty little maiko, isn't she? Still a virgin too, so that's too bad for you guys." Konan smiled and gestured to him and Itachi bowed politely. "Beautiful love, quite a name you picked for her Aoi, you little blue rascal." A strange-looking man with orange hair and a face full of piercings said, and she scurried to his side, starting a conversation with him and the man on her other side, a more serious looking redhead. The man on the other end of the table seized him up for a bit before telling him to go get some sake. Not wanting to disturb Konan, since she was busy doing a fake laugh at some joke the orange haired man made and creeping her hand under the other's collar, Itachi left the room to find the kitchen in this place.

Luckily the place wasn't hard to find, and after years of practice it was easy for him to move around in the thick layers of sturdy clothing. He put the bottles on the room's tab and made his way back. The sight that greeted him when he opened the door was an embarrassing but not unfamiliar one, seeing as Konan dragged him along to most of the meetings she had with her own clientele.

She and her two 'customers' had apparently decided to horizontalize their ministrations and some very creepy noises were coming from the other side of the table. Knowing that the best course of action was to just ignore what was going on he settled down next to the remaining customer and poured him a cup of the alcoholic beverage. While the man downed his drink Itachi got the chance to take a good look at him, Konan had chosen someone outside of their usual base of clients this night it seemed. She always chose the respectable men for him, the ones with a reputation that they couldn't ever afford to soil, so there was no risk of them revealing him, if they ever found out. But this man was different, he actually had tattoos on his _face_, his skin was darker than was common around here, which must mean he came from another country, and his hair looked like it hadn't seen a barber in decades… though it desperately needed to.

And while he seemed to nearly burst out of the awfully tailored suit, the man's overall appearance didn't seem all that dishevelled, just unruly and uncaring about such things. He liked it. "So," the man said while he handed him his cup for a refill. "Looks like you're pretty used to this… but those aren't the kind of services you provide, isn't that right, Aimi?" Itachi simply shook his head while the man downed his second cup. He then chuckled at the noises coming from the others and burped. "Yeah I figured that since she said you were still a cute little virgin thing, that for sale at all?" Again he shook his head. "Shame. Pretty thing like you could make a lot of money… if you sell it to the right man." A knowing smile stretched across his face. "That's why she's setting us up you know. She told me about your little _issue_, and I don't mind in the slightest."

Itachi's insides turned cold at the revelation and he avoided eye contact while trying not to lose his cool. That woman, that damn woman! How DARE she! Reveal him like that, like he had no other options! He was seething, but on the outside he showed nothing of it, didn't even blink. "Don't worry." Itachi turned back to the man, who smiled. Not an evil smile, the kind seedy men carry on their face when they know they've got their target cornered, but a kind one. "Despite my appearance I am a man of honour. I'd never even think of taking advantage of a _lady's_ predicament. That being said, do you want to go somewhere else? These three are making me sick." The sounds that came from the other side of the table had turned into groaning ones and Itachi wanted nothing more than to get away.

But to be alone with a man, without his big sister, would doom him. Even if nothing happened, people would naturally assume it did. And since he didn't have the parts needed to check his virginity there was nothing he'd be able to do about it. "I can't." he whispered, leaning on the other's arm to enter hearing distance. The man's face was suddenly very close to his own, which unnerved him. Not that he'd ever let the man know that, so he stubbornly held this position. The other also seemed frozen in his place, and whispered in return: "There's a nice room right next to this one, no one would have to know. Maybe you could play me some music there or show off all those conversatory skills you geisha are so famed for?"

Well… if no one ever found out it'd be no problem, right? He shuffled through the hallway; the only way of walking in a kimono that was possible, with the man hot on his heels. He could practically feel his breath on his neck but he had to focus on the tray of bottles he was carrying with him. When he realised he'd passed the door they were going for he stopped, causing the other to bump into him, making Itachi loose his balance. His feet slipped from under him but instead of hitting the hard wooden floors he only heard the sound of bottles breaking and the tray clattering on the ground. Gasping he opened his eyes, which he must've closed in shock, and found himself being held up by one thick arm that was wrapped around his waist. This was not good, not good at all; people would hear the crash and see them!

So he swiftly untangled himself from the other and almost slipped on the spilled liquid again, if he'd fallen the kimono would've definitely been ruined. But then he remembered the pounding music that resonated through the hallway and relaxed a bit, maybe no one had heard after all? So he turned around and profusely apologised to the man he was supposed to be charming, any chances Konan thought he'd have he surely ruined by now. The other cut him off though, "Don't apologise! I wasn't looking where I was going so it's all my fault, okay? Someone will clean this up later, but can you get me some new bottles now? I'll wait in here." And he entered the room, leaving a slightly ruffled Itachi in at the door.

When he hurried back to the room, bottles in hand, he nearly slipped on the spilled drinks again. He really lost his head today, and couldn't remember the last time he was so clumsy. But this room was nicer, it was small, but the awful music didn't penetrate the walls and there stood a shamisen in the corner. The man sat in another corner that was filled with fluffy pillows, and Itachi set the bottles by him before sitting on the floor himself. He did it in a highly dignified way, of course, and took the three-snared instrument into his lap. "Would you like me to play you something?" he spoke in a voice softer and silkier than his one, which men seemed to appreciate. And the other nodded.

He didn't know how long he'd been playing, but he didn't miss the time he spent. He started off with the basic melodies, but when the man made no other requests or stopped him at all he played every song he could remember. He improvised the parts of the melodies he learned long ago, and when he played them all he completely made up his own, never ending and ever changing melody. At one point he caught himself humming along softly to the tune his fingers formed without him even thinking about it, but at that time his customer sat with most empty bottles, his eyes closed and a smile on his face which disappeared when he stopped humming. So he continued.

The fat, red, paper lantern that hung in the middle of the small chamber cast long shadows over his cheeks, formed by his eyelashes. And after another indiscernible length of time the man opened his eyes and lifted his hand. Itachi stopped playing. "Come here." He spoke in a gruff voice, and so he put the instrument aside and settled at the other's side. The cushions were comfortable, but he kept himself focussed, why would the man want him near? "You've proven your skill of music alright, honestly I could listen to you play all night, and maybe we should arrange that some other time, but now your other skill must be put to the test. Conversation."

And converse they did; and the man seemed very pleased about this turn of events, which Itachi took great pride in. He listened to every conversation that held any meaning every time he got the chance. Whether it was the drunken ramblings of Konan's clients or an argument about politics he happened to overhear at the grocery store. He sucked up information like a sponge, and was knowledgeable in most any subject the man threw at him.

After a while the test seemed to stop and they simply carried a conversation, Itachi had no idea where it started, but one subject lead to another and he could quite honestly say it was the most fun he's had in a long time.

But all things must come to an end sometime, and so must this, namely by his checking on the room next door and finding it completely empty. Konan was gone. He settled back into the cushions without telling his companion about his findings, but the man could sense there was something off. "Aoi left, I'm alone here." "That's a pretty crappy big sister, do you live near here?" It was a forty-five minute walk to get there. "No, but I know the address so I should be able to ask the way." "In the dead of night? No. there's creeps out at this hour; I can't let you go alone. Besides, my business is in that area, I'll walk you home.

It was raining but the man had an umbrella, and they walked in silence. Some people on the streets leered at the pretty lass with the painted face, but Itachi ignored them. The man, on the other hand, was suffering from a drunken temper and it took the younger one all his might to keep them out of numerous fist fights. When they finally did arrive at Itachi's home address he was relieved. "I've been a total ass tonight, and I apologise, I gotta lay off the booze. But I had a really good time with you, Aimi, I'll let Aoi know that I'd like to see you again." And he started wandering off. "Wait." In a moment where he was sure he'd lost his mind Itachi grabbed the man's arm and stopped him. "I… I had a very good time with you too, and I'd like to know your name… for future reference." The other grinned and twirled a lock of the geisha's black hair around his finger.

"Name's Kisame, I'll see you around." And he was gone.


	3. Chapter Two

A Painted Face.

Chapter Two.

The next morning Itachi was rudely awoken by his big sister pulling off the covers. He felt drowsy from lack of sleep and mindlessly rubbed his eyes, smearing his black and white make up all over his face. "Get up. I know you're sore but get up and give me the money." Money? He slowly sat up. "Didn't he pay you up front? He didn't pay me anything." She left the room and came back with a bucket of lukewarm water and a sponge. "Come here." he crawled out of bed and took off his nightgown. "I promise you, I'm not trying to cheat you out of your part, boy, but you need to give the money to me so I can decide how much you're worth. Did you leave him happy?" She sponged him off gently, making sure to clean off all the paint but not chafe his skin. It was not a concern of kindness, the flawless skin was his main selling point. "I… I think he left happy, yes." He couldn't possibly tell her how the man walked him home all that way… she'd cuss him out for bringing a male to the district for sure. "But why would he have paid me extra?"

She stared at him with a cold stare and incredulous look on her face. "Do you think I'm stupid? Do you think I didn't see you two leave? _I_ got home at an ungodly hour, and you were still there, still with him. So tell me now; _how much did he pay?_" "WHAT? You think I gave myself to him? I just played the shamisen and we talked for a long time, but nothing like that happened! He asked me, but I turned him down. I swear Konan it didn't!" How could she think that lowly of him, after telling him time after time that a geisha's position was not something like that? All that stuff about touches being forbidden and virtue having to be kept safe was a lie? She put the sponge aside. "Fine then, if you're telling the truth you won't mind me checking, will you? Bend over."

This had to be the worst morning of his life. Itachi lay curled up back in bed, he felt absolutely violated and humiliated in every possible way. At least Konan was convinced he was still untaken now, though he hadn't thought it possible that such a thing could be tested on a man. Suddenly his grief turned to anger. She planned it to be that way, she'd _wanted_ for him to sell himself that night! She'd never intended for him to become a geisha, she'd just left him in that ruse to get him in the position of a high-class prostitute. Did that mean everything was lie? That his training wasn't correct, that everything she'd taught him was false… he'd never become the one thing he'd been living towards all these years? No. He threw the covers off with determination this time, because he wouldn't let that happen, never. He would be successful, more elegant, beautiful and loved than she would ever expect from him. He would amaze her, and then, finally leave her.

He looked around the small room that was his life. His small futon lay on one side of the room, on the other side stood a man-size mirror with all his paint and accessories in a small dresser next to it. The wall between his bed and furniture got split in half by the rice paper door, on the other side stood a clothing rack that held his yukatas. The floor and walls were the same smooth pale wood, and the entire room was gently lit by the two small round rice paper windows on either side of the rack. In the middle of his room hung a bare lantern that got hardly ever used. He put on a broken white yukata with a pale pink obi and pinned up his hair, it was time this city knew about his presence.

He slammed open his door, causing the wood to rattle, and made his way through the small hallway and down the creaky old flight of narrow stairs. He entered the large living quarters and walked up to Konan and the mother, who were unpacking 3 flower-shaped rice cakes. "Konan. I want to be in tomorrow's dance rehearsal at central." He'd seen the poster on the walk home the night before and it'd suddenly popped back into his mind. "Excuse me?" He sat down next to the two of them. "I want to get more renown, that will get us more, and more valuable customers, won't it, dear _sister_?" Mother nodded approvingly, but Konan seemed uncertain. "It is a difficult routine, and I don't think they'll take on any new dancers the day before the show…" "You know I'm better than any of the maiko's who are making their debut there, I could learn the steps in an hour, and you know it! What could go wrong?" He wasn't just bragging, his dancing skills were superb, beyond Kaimi's even, and she was the most famous geisha dancer in town right now. If he could upstage her tomorrow he would most likely be set for life.

Mother took a pull on her cigarette and wrapped the cakes up in a red velvet cloth. "Then go, boy. You won't need paint for this so get on your way." She said to him. He quickly put on his sandals and left with a bow. "Konan." She spoke, "Call the centre and tell them he's joining." The younger woman stood with a grin, plucked the thin white stick from the others lips and breathed in the smoke. "Honestly mother, I seem to know him a lot better than you." She took long purposeful strides to the window and looked at the boy's disappearing back. "I already called them this morning." The old woman sat down with a huff. "I don't really care, as long as he starts bringing in some more money soon."

Itachi arrived at the centre a little dishevelled but not out of breath, he praised himself. Stamina was important for any dancer, and he had a lot of work to do. He walked into the building and was met with distrustful stared from all the other maiko's; they knew who he was, of course, though he knew none of them. They were rehearsing on stage, and he hung back to see the entire performance once. Afterwards he walked up to the geisha that seemed to be in charge and told him why he was there, she also looked at him as if he was something dirty that had no right being in her group, which was true of course. She placed him within the group of young maiko's and the performance began from the start, though uncertain, he played his part perfectly. The others seemed surprised, though he thought they shouldn't be. He wasn't like them after all. He didn't practice 3 hours a day before hanging out with friends and joking about with his big sister. Practice was his life. Being the human embodiment of elegance did not come naturally; it took years of practice and a peace of mind these girls could only dream of.

After a few more rehearsals the others left, but he stayed behind. All alone on a big stage in an even bigger theatre, the soft pink lights played around him in a set pattern while he flowed in his cotton yukata as if it were a silk kimono. He moved with the fans in his hands like water, shining as bright as a thousand lights on the river. Every move was calculated, yet seemed as natural as breathing would. His mind was calm and clear, there was no music, so he hummed the melody quietly to himself. By the time he was satisfied with his performance the sky was getting dark, he was about to jump off the stage when a figure shrouded in darkness started clapping from the back of the theatre. A man emerged from one of the faraway rows of seats and started walking towards him.

Suddenly Itachi realised he wasn't wearing his white mask or anything else to shield him from recognition. He jumped off the stage and ran right past the man, losing a slipper in the progress, but he couldn't go back to fetch it. So he ran. He ran from the theatre, slamming the doors open that were in his way, bumping into more than a few people and feeling out of breath by the time he was back in his own district. "AIMI! Over here!" a familiar voice called to him. A large blond man pushing a fruit cart across the canal he was walking parallel to waved excitedly and Itachi couldn't help the smile breaking his visage at that moment. He hurried to the small red bridge that connected them and ran towards his only friend in the world. When he stood in front of the man he didn't quite know what to do, for reasons so obvious even his quite oblivious friend could figure out. "Hey, why aren't you wearing any of that white paint you always do? And… Aimi I'm not sure if you noticed but yer missing a shoe… or is that the fashion nowadays?" At hearing the familiar voice speaking to him in such a kind tone that it almost seemed as if he wasn't upset at all that Itachi'd done more than a little effort to avoid the man the last few years he suddenly found the courage to look him in the face.

He swallowed thickly but found his voice, "I lost it… I was practicing dancing and I lost it. And since I wasn't seeing anyone important I didn't put on my paint." The other frowned at that. "So I'm not important anymore?" Then he laughed in the same way he always used to to deflect a painful subject. "I guess I already knew that though… we haven't spoken in so long." A shameful wave of guilt washed over him, he had been horrible to his friend, who hadn't deserved such treatment. The man smiled, though his blue eyes stayed cold. The three scars on either side of his face stretched along with his smile. His vibrant golden hair flopped around when he nodded, "Right! Look, I brought way too much food, so if you want to eat something? We could talk and catch up?" Itachi was tempted, so very tempted. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to be taken away by this man, to disappear into the night like they used to. He wanted to run over roofs and throw rocks at cars and splash mud on ladies' dresses. But he couldn't, because he knew that if he went with this man now, he would never return. Sasuke needed him too much for him to ever be able to make such a decision.

"I'm sorry, but I need to go. It was good to see you." He turned to walk away. "I like you better without the paint, Aimi… reminds me of how you used to be." Itachi took a shaky breath, the way he used to be, huh… he hadn't been himself in a very long time. He turned back around and took in the other's appearance. As an obvious foreigner, one without any money, Naruto had often been and probably still was the target of relentless harassment by people who felt better than him, yet he never conformed to their ways. Even now he stood, barefoot, in nothing but a faded grey tee and dirty brown shorts. "Have I really changed that much?" he found the guts to ask, and the other nodded sadly. "You used to be… more. Wilder. You hardly smile anymore. You might not have seen me, but I've been keeping my eye on you, yaknow. Who am I to defy the saying 'once you've saved someone's life you're forever responsible for it'?" he pointed to his scars. "You remember, don't you?" Itachi nodded, how could he forget? This man was the entire reason he'd wanted to become a geisha in the first place.

0

Itachi looked around in near panic, he'd only been in the town for a week, and already mother sent him on an errand all the way to the other side of town. He followed the directions well enough on the way there, but when he walked back it started to rain and his little paper with directions got soaked and useless. And now he was lost in a very dark and very scary part of town. He hid in a small niche next to some shady store to shield himself from the persistent rain. Finally, after what seemed to be hours, the rain let up, and the little nine year old boy stepped out into the muddy street. "Whatcha got there?" a slurred voice spoke to him. From the direction he was supposed to go, or at least he thought so, two older boys walked towards him. He didn't answer; instead he just hugged the packet wrapped in plastic closer to his chest. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be out here alone, why don't you come with us?" With every step the boys advanced on him he got more scared, so he turned and tried to run away. His little pink yukata had gotten very heavy around his legs from all the water they soaked up, so his legs got tangled and he fell… right into the arms of a third boy. His arms were grabbed so he couldn't move and the boy that spoke to him first took the packet and opened it. "Psh, what is this crap?" He held the plastic bag upside down and shook it, causing a number of small white notebooks to fall into the mud and be ruined.

"NO! What are you doing, give it back!" He couldn't fail the very first task mother ever gave him, how was he ever supposed to earn being sent to geisha school this way? He swung up his leg and kicked the boy in the stomach; he immediately doubled over cussing and coughing. The other grabbed the front of his yukata, pulling his feet off the ground. "You little bitch," he nearly growled, "You'll pay for that!" the streets in this part were very narrow, so while he slammed Itachi with his back into the rough wooden wall the three didn't notice the presence sneaking up on them until it'd tapped the one who was at that moment trying to pull off the now screaming boy's obi on the shoulder. He stopped his administration to turn around with a dull "Huh?" before catching a facefull of fist. He staggering sunk to his knees and fell forward into the road while his assaulter, a young man with vibrant blue eyes, golden hair and a massive grin on his face who looked to be about seventeen, slowly cracked his knuckles.

"Pathetic! Three against one little one!" He spit out the words as if he felt disgusted for even letting them lay on his tongue for the time needed to speak them. Itachi wanted to run away, but got grabbed by the throat and pushed back against the wall by the same boy as he had the first time, and the one he kicked was getting back up… with a macabre looking knife in his hand. "Mind your own damn business, you son of a whore, this little bitch is ours." He said, an insane light glowing in his eyes. "Or do you want to be dissected in his place?" Itachi's rescuer's grin never left his face, if anything; it grew bigger and more sinister. "Why don't you try me?"

Then everything went black.

"Hey… you okay?" a worried voice penetrated Itachi's still partially unconscious mind and he slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on his back on a soft mossy ground; the sky above him was pitch black. Suddenly the events from before he passed out came back to him, and he sat up with a start. His vision turned blotchy, he felt incredibly lightheaded and almost fell over again, before he was caught by two strong arms. "No!" He chocked out, and without being able to see anything he tried to push himself away from the other. But he wasn't let go. "Hold still, stupid, they're gone now." Itachi tried to free himself for a few seconds longer, but to no avail. By the time he gave up his vision had returned properly and he looked to see who his capturer was. He immediately recognised the one who'd come to his aid, and apologised profusely. "Yeah, is that any way to treat someone who put his life on the line for you? Tell me your name." Itachi couldn't speak, though it was definitely the blonde man from before, the entire lower half of his face, up to just below his eyes was wrapped in thick white bandages. Bandages that were slowly starting to seep a little red.

"Your face!" he managed to choke out. The other gingerly touched the bandages, "Ah, don't worry, I get into scrapes all the time. This town need a vigilante after all! I'm Naruto, professional ninja, vowed to serve and protect the weak and ones in need. You better thank me, little lady, those guys are dangerous… I've gotten into fights with them before, didn't have a knife then, though. Seemed they wanted to gut you. Some people are just insane." Gut… him? Itachi felt nauseous, he'd seen a butcher gut a pig once, that's what they wanted to do to him? He had trouble containing his gag reflex at the thought that that would have happened to him. He was shook from his thoughts when the man casually grabbed the piece of fabric that was supped to be covering him but had fallen off his shoulder and pulled it back into place. "You gonna tell me your name?"

Itachi quickly pulled away from the large hand still resting on his shoulder and fastened his obi. Mother had given him a new name to use… but he had trouble remembering it. "A-aimi" he remembered, but still felt odd using the name as his own. He looked around and saw that they were sitting on the riverbed that was part of a large garden in the middle of town; his new home wasn't far from here. "I need to go home." He tried to sit up, but his legs felt like jelly. "Don't get up! You were out for a pretty long time, I'll take you home." The kind vigilante then stood and lifted the boy onto his shoulders. Itachi grabbed hold on the fascinating golden hair. "Where to go?"

0

"I'll always remember you, Naruto."


	4. Chapter Three

A Painted Face.

Chapter Three.

They sat on the soft green grass covering the riverbank under the bridge, cooling their feet in the stream. Itachi slumped against the other's side and slowly chewed his apple. It was odd how easily they slipped back into their usual roles, as if the years spent apart didn't even matter anymore. He hadn't planned on sticking around, but Naruto looked so sad to see him leave, he just couldn't. Sitting there, in the cool shade, next to the town's self-proclaimed ninja vigilante, he felt like a little kid again. he knew he should be at home, practising, but instead he pulled the pins out of his hair and let the smooth black mass flow over his shoulders like the water around his feet and let out a deep sigh. It felt good to let loose, and when Naruto nearly fell into the river from sputtering and moving around to dodge the long hair the wind was trying to drown his face in Itachi couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're as smooth as usual, aren't you mister ninja?" He said while he bound his hair in a tight bun at the back of his head. Naruto pouted and playfully pushed against the other's shoulder. The younger of the two was not anticipating it, however, and fell over. For a moment they looked at each other with equally shocked expressions on their faces, before Naruto decided to plaster a smug grin on his face. "Where's that perfect balance of yours now, huh?" he said tauntingly. Itachi, feeling confident while hidden away from the world and any prying eyes, decided to play along with the game.

He rolled onto his side and grabbed hold of his arm, he pressed his face in the grass and started trembling. "I-it hurts… why Naru?" he made his voice waver and cowered away from the other. "I'm sorry! I-I didn't know, Aimi I'm sorry!" Naruto's voice was desperate while he reached over to try and grab hold of one of the boy's trembling shoulders. This couldn't be happening! Not now that they were finally spending time together again and he had been forgiven… Itachi flinched at the touch and turned to look up at the man with tear-filled eyes. "Why must you always hurt me so?" he sniffled pathetically while crossing his arms in front of his chest as if to shield himself.

Naruto immediately backed away to a safe distance, and gripped the fabric of his shorts in tightly balled fists. He stared down at his knees and looked about ready to cry. It was always like this, his little companion would trust him and follow him around, and then get hurt because of him. Whether it was from falling down on the streets to keep up with the eight years older boy, or from getting caught up in Naruto 'street fights for justice!', Aimi was always the one who got hurt in the end. Itachi rolled onto his back and took pity on the guy who was clearly beating himself up about it. He slipped one of his feet back in the water and propped himself up on his elbows. "Hey Naru?" the other looked up. Itachi grinned and lifted his dripping wet foot, "Just kidding!" He swung up his leg and pressed his foot into the other's face, pushing him over and soaking him in the process.

What just happened? Naruto lay sputtering on his back, his entire front was wet and Aimi was just sitting there casually chewing on another apple with a mischievous glint in her eyes and a completely innocent look on her face, this girl would be the death of him for sure!

"You… you manipulative little pretender! I was seriously worried you know!" He slowly got up and shook his head to try and dry his eyebrows. Itachi held out a fat red piece of fruit to the other and smiled sweetly. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself." He said in a sugary voice. "You weren't so deceptive the last time I saw you, and that's not good enough!" Naruto grabbed the accursed foot and pulled the body attached to it towards him. Itachi barely had any time to register what was happening before both his hands were caught in a stronger one and a heavy body covered his own. "Naruto?" He couldn't help the blush creeping up his cheeks at the position they were in, his legs were on either side of the other's broad physique and when he was dragged down his yukata had been pushed up a little too far for his liking.

"Are you ready to receive your punishment for abandoning me?" the larger male spoke in a voice that suddenly seemed deeper than he remembered it ever being before. Naruto looked down at him with dark, hooded eyes, and his free hand trailed over his now captive's side. Itachi's breath got stuck in his throat, was this really happening?  
Both were too enraptured in what was happening to notice the few young maiko's making their way towards the riverbank, and running back up after seeing what was going on under the bridge.

"Naruto… you can't…" Itachi managed to whisper, but the grip on his hands was unwavering. He figured his friend was familiar with this kind of thing, he was already twenty two years old after all, and has probably had his fair share of lovers. "You brought this on yourself. So suffer the consequences with pride." Naruto growled menacingly while his face stretched into a wicked grin and the fingers of his free hand played over the other's side a little longer. They relentlessly attacked the younger male's ribs over and over again until the other was screaming and thrashing around in laughter. "I bring you: tickle hell!" Naruto announced with pride.

Itachi shook and pulled to be released from the steely grip and flee those prodding fingers, but to no avail. After a while he didn't even have enough strength left to trash about and just lay, dry heaving and accepting his punishment. A few moments later Naruto released him with a chuckle, "Learned your lesson?" Itachi breathlessly nodded, he felt exposed, but wasn't strong enough to pull the fabric over his legs. Not only that, but his yukata was falling off one shoulder and his hair was unravelling. He felt sweaty, and he loose strands of hair stuck to his brow and neck, it was annoying.

"So…" Naruto started after he lay down next to his friend in the high grass, "Would you like to tell me why you've been avoiding me?" Itachi shot him and incredulous look. Because I was slowly falling in love with you and felt about able to burn down the entire district just so I could be with you, also I just wished for you to do unspeakable things to me and if you ever knew all that you would be completely disgusted by me. Not to mention the fact that if hell ever froze over and you _were_ somehow interested in me I'd have to turn you down because I have a little something hanging between my legs I don't think you're a really big fan of. Itachi tiredly smiled up at his friend and spoke: "No."

The other chuckled, "I thought so, you've never once allowed me to get a peek in that pretty head of yours, huh? Ah, that's okay, I'm used to it after all." He rolled onto his stomach and crawled to Itachi's side. "Hey," Naruto said, seemingly nervous, "I know things are difficult with all this geisha stuff going on, but do you think you might be interested in… I don't know… being my girlfriend?"

What.

0

Kisame was in a bad mood. He hadn't been able to sleep all night, every time he tried to catch some shuteye all he could see were two incredibly deep black eyes, soft red lips and a skin like the moon. Even when he lay awake he could still hear the soft and gentle humming in the back of his mind. Was he losing his mind? He'd spent time with many a young maiko, heck, he'd even purchased the occasional mizuage and contemplated becoming whatever young woman's master.

But they had never been like this, so comfortable and unguarded, while at the same time being completely untouchable. The boy was an enigma, how could one converse for hours without learning a single thing about them? That was probably why he couldn't get him out of his head. He was… different. Not just a pretty face and obedient piece of art, he was more. He didn't know exactly how it happened, but the moment he decided the boy would be his was on their way back from the club. He'd been wasted out of his mind and feeling more than a little aggressive. So when a bunch of hoodlums started talking trash to the beauty that was clinging on his arm he wasted no time getting into attack mode.

Except he didn't fight anyone, which was odd, since they'd been approached multiple times. It took the sobriety of the morning after for him to realise that the boy hadn't been hanging on to him for protection, no, it was to keep him from fighting. This puzzled him. In his circles he was pretty well known for his drunken temper, and the impossibility to get through to him once he was in that state. But Aimi made it happen, with just a few whispered words and well placed touches on his arm the boy calmed him down time and time again, the little thing had him completely wrapped around his finger.

No one was supposed to be able to play him out like that, and when he looked back at it that was exactly what'd happened. Throughout their talk he'd learned nothing about the boy, but that damn kid peeled away all his layers, until his entire life history, hopes, dreams and views on things were laid bare for everyone to see. Except no one would ever see, he was sure of that. Somehow he knew the boy had a loyal spirit, which wasn't necessarily a good thing. It probably meant that there already was someone he'd promised his heart to, and that just wouldn't do.

Kisame was shaken from his thoughts when his car suddenly stopped, he wanted to ask the driver what was going on, but once he glanced out of the window he already knew. To get to his business meeting they had to cross the theatre square, geisha territory. And from the sounds of it, someone was about to get lynched. The entire square was filled with women, practicing or other, and they were hysterical. Even inside the car he could discern a few of the shouted words, and they weren't good ones. "Just try to get through." He told his driver, until a familiar name reached his ears and he had the car stop instead.

0

This couldn't be happening! Itachi'd been lying in near shock after Naruto's question, but before he even had any time to think of an answer there suddenly was all sorts of commotion going on around him and an entire group of maiko was tugging at him, dragging him up on the square. He was thrown onto the hard stone, chafing his knees in the process. But they kept pushing him, he didn't know where to or what to do, he could barely keep his clothes from getting ripped off his body. After one extraordinarily hard push he fell face first onto the rough stone, some of his teeth slammed through his lip and he couldn't feel his nose anymore. And still they were pushing him, pulling him, screaming at him. Until he landed on his knees at the feet of 'the teacher'.

At this point he was crying, he didn't understand what was happening, and they all looked down at him with unshielded hate and disgust in their eyes, and he didn't know why. "Teacher, why?" he managed to choke out, and she took out her cane. "You disgusting child!" she spit at him. "You're no better than a whore! We have tolerated you, when you showed some stature. But now! You're a slut! A harlot! You will NEVER be a geisha!" she swung her cane and struck him across the face, the crowd was cheering.

This couldn't be happening, it couldn't… he did nothing wrong! Itachi lay on the cold stones and tasted blood, his vision was slowly turning black. He reached out a trembling hand and tried to grab the teacher's foot, she had to listen to him! But she pulled away and slammed her foot down on his hand, he wanted to scream but couldn't, another girl kicked him in the side. He saw the insanely malicious intent in her eyes and there was nothing but pain and darkness anymore.

"What the hell is going on here!" a deep voice he somehow recognised called out, and before anyone could answer it the teacher had been pushed away from him with such force that rows of girls rallying behind her toppled over also. Kisame stood beside him with an expression on his face that could only be described as pure bloodlust. The girl that kicked him fell to the ground with a screech and Naruto knelt beside him. "Aimi! Answer me, are you alright?" good, Naruto was there, they wouldn't be able to hurt him anymore. Itachi lost consciousness with a bloodied smile on his face.

"Pick him up and follow me." Kisame ordered the large blond man that was hunched over _his_ little maiko. Naruto carefully lifted his wounded friend into his arms, while he did so however the severely loosened yukata completely fell off Itachi's shoulder, exposing most of his chest. Naruto's eyes widened, but he quickly pulled the clothing back in place before the other man could see. Kisame turned around and, when he saw that the other was ready, started his purposeful strides towards his car. Anyone who blocked his way got told to move the fuck aside, and those who refused got kicked aside, hard.

Kisame opened the door to the backseat and got in, gesturing at the other to hand Itachi to him. Naruto did so reluctantly, he didn't trust this violent man, but in the car his friend would at least be safe. The other man tried to close the door before he was able to get in, but Naruto didn't let it happen.

So a few moments later they sat next to each other, the boy spread out on both their laps. "So…" Kisame started after he told the driver to run over anyone who wouldn't move. "Who the fuck are you?" Naruto grimaced at him, but instead of answering he lifted Itachi up from the other's lap and manoeuvred him in such a manner that he was sitting on Naruto's lap only and his face was hidden from the other's view. "You're a client of his, aren't you?" he asked. Kisame nodded. "Yeah… he'd never speak to me again if he found out I let you see him like this."

Kisame sighed, "I don't think he'll want to speak to you again either way, am I right to assume that this is your fault?" Naruto looked confused. "How would it be my fault that those women have gone bat shit crazy?" Kisame raised his eyebrow at that statement… was this guy stupid or something?

"It's pretty damn clear they've been looking for a reason to lynch him for a while, something happened just now. Something they saw, so what did you do to him?" Naruto blushed scarlet, "I… I think there might have been something they saw but- hey, you know he's a… he?" He only just realised the man hadn't spoken about teen on his lap as girl at all. Kisame frowned, this guy had _better_ not put his hands on his Aimi. "Of course I know. Didn't you?" Naruto shook his head. "I only just found out." "When you fucked him?" "NO!" He furiously shook his head but couldn't stop blushing no matter how hard he tried.

Kisame crossed his arms over his chest and sceptically stared at the other. "I'll have you know it's not below me to make sure you'll never be able to speak to this little one again if you don't start talking. My patience is running thin." Naruto nervously played with a lock of Itachi's loosened black hair on his shoulder. "It's going to sound stupid, but it's the truth, you can ask him when he wakes up…" He stopped and stared down at his knees. Kisame sighed, reached into his coat's inner pocket and pulled out a sleek metal handgun. He put it down on the seat between them, Naruto's eyes turned the size of saucers.

"Start talking."

So Naruto told him everything, from the moment they met on the square to the point at which he noticed the young man was being roughly kidnapped. He conveniently forgot to include the part in which he asked the other be become his, but besides that he was pretty accurate. Kisame could tell that the blond man was telling the truth, no one would make up such and embarrassing story for fun, but she still vowed to himself that he would check it out with Aimi once he woke up.

The rest of the drive to Itachi's home was spent in silence, neither felt like making conversation, and frankly they were both quite worried about their love's wellbeing, eventually they pulled into the street the house bordered on and Kisame asked the one question he did want to know the answer to immediately. "Why is it fine for you to see him like this but not for me?" Naruto smiled sadly, "Because he needs to keep up the illusion of perfection for you, I've known him since he was just little, so it doesn't matter to him how I portray him. That's the one thing your money can never buy." Kisame quirked an eyebrow. "And what would that one thing be?" "He trusts me, but he would never trust you. So in the race for Aimi's heart, I win."

Kisame grinned. "We'll see."


	5. Chapter Four

A Painted Face.

Chapter Four.

"-uch a bothersome child." Itachi slowly opened his eyes, only to immediately wince at the feeling of something wet against his chafed knees. He tried to sit up, but was roughly pushed back down. "Honestly! It seems like you get yourself in trouble every time you leave this house. And now you even brought two men back here!" Konan slowly moved the wet rag over his legs, then sat back and wiped the blood away from under his nose. "You're an absolute mess. Do you have any idea how slim our chances of ever making you a full-fledged geisha are now?" Itachi didn't answer her, instead he just lay there, staring up at the ceiling of his room. At his refusal to speak she stood, with none of the grace she usually possessed, and hurled the rag into the bucket with force. It toppled over, causing the water to spill out and slowly spread over his wooden floor. Her kimono was wrinkled in places, and her socks wet. "I NEVER should have taken you on, you've brought me nothing but misfortune and now you've _ruined_ my good name. Useless, that's what you are. And clean that up!" The wooden frame that held the ricepaper door shuddered as she slammed it shut behind her.

For a while he didn't move, he just lay there. His face hurt, he could feel a bruise settling on his cheek, where he'd been hit with the cane, and there was still a faint, coppery taste of blood left in his mouth. But inside he felt nothing. Because she was right, he was useless, bothersome and brought nothing but trouble to anyone who got involved with him. The grey panels above him were empty, just like his walls, just like his life.

He sat up and crawled to the bucket, setting it upright. His knees hurt and he deserved it, so he wrung out the rag and started cleaning up. After he was done he stood and walked over to the mirror. His yukata was ruined, it was covered in blood and dirt, and was ripped in places. He let it slip off his shoulders and pool around his feet on the ground. There he stood, staring at his naked self in a room packed with things to disguise a beautiful person as an even more beautiful one. He took a step closer, and his nose touched the glass. He couldn't see it. The soft lips that drove men wild were dry and scabbed. The dark eyes that drew them in were nothing but shallow, unseeing things. His hair was limp and dead. Was this who he was? Who he'd become? A shallow seductress whose few virtues were fake? He turned away from the face he'd come to hate over the past years, every time he painted it it became less him and more someone else. When he was himself he lusted after his only friend, whom he'd treated like dirt beneath his feet. He felt better than all the other maiko's, and made them hate him. He never had any time for his little brother anymore, but couldn't quite figure out what he'd been so busy with instead all this time. And when he did paint his face he became a leeching faker, who jimmied lonely men out of their money and hooked them by pretending to care about them and their shallow little lives, while his own was even shallower. He didn't know who he was anymore.  
But he hated the person who stared back at him.

He slowly walked to his clothesrack and picked out another yukata, this one was a gentle blue, and slipped it on. "'Tachi?" a small voice asked outside his door. "Come on in Sasuke." His voice sounded off, thin almost. The boy quickly snuck inside, closed the door behind him without a sound and stayed standing there. "Are… are you okay, brother? There's two men downstairs asking about you and they won't leave…" Itachi nodded, he was fine. Absolutely fine. Every geisha in the city hated him, including his big sister, and he didn't know himself or his little brother anymore. Maybe getting called out and beaten had been exactly what he deserved, what he needed. A wake-up call.

He held out his arms. "C'mere." The little Uchiha quickly scrambled across the room and awkwardly hugged the other, he couldn't remember the last time his big brother had taken the time to actually hug him. Itachi tightly wrapped his arms around his greatest treasure. He'd been so caught up in making enough money to buy their freedom that he'd completely lost his grip on their relationship. "I'm sorry I've been so busy, Sasuke… I've made a lot of mistakes lately, can you forgive me?" "Yes! Of course, Ani, anything for you!" And suddenly, Itachi didn't feel so empty anymore. "Alright, then I'm going to need your help, those two nice gentlemen downstairs need to be entertained while I put some make-up on, can you do that for me?" Sasuke, who was happy with the important task bestowed upon him, nodded furiously, and nearly fell down the stairs in his haste to make his brother proud.

Itachi decided not to go for the full geisha look, it didn't really matter anymore, Kisame had already seen him without it after all. He covered up the bruise, painted his lips and lashes and tied his hair up in a bun. He would go downstairs, apologise for the inconvenience and schedule a free session with the man. He'd tell Naruto to leave and they would never speak again. He hadn't even noticed when he'd become so infatuated with the man, but it was too much trouble to allow himself to continue feeling that way. He would be a geisha after all, and geisha were not allowed such luxuries, love and enjoyment were for the free and rich, and he was neither. Naruto would find another, he was sure of it, and he would focus on nothing but his practise and Sasuke from now on. He pulled up his collar and looked at the finished product in the mirror. He suddenly remembered something the blonde man had told him when he was still just a kid and he'd been rescued from his assaulters that very first week. 'The world is filled with fucked up people, youknow? But it's hard for sheltered and untainted people to see it.' He stared at his reflection and the whispered words fell off his lips, "I see it now."

0

Kisame was excited, he'd never been inside an okiya before, but he'd imagined what it was like many times. He'd read studies and documentaries about the geisha's life, what their homes looked like and how the hierarchy among them worked. The reality did not disappoint him. The entire place screamed touchable mystery, the ricepaper windows, which were exactly the same as his own, suddenly seemed like a barrier between the real world and this smaller one, this world of women. The floor was covered in tatami mats, and there were low hanging paper lanterns everywhere. An older woman was sitting in a corner behind a low desk filled with paperwork smoking through a straw, and when they came in he saw the immense stacks of kimono boxes in the stairwell. Aoi was there too, walking around looking more dishevelled than he'd ever seen her before, and a small boy who had a striking resemblance to Aimi kept sneaking around them, peeking at them from behind the doors. All in all it felt like he'd gone a few decades back in time the moment he stepped into the house.

It would have been an even more entertaining experience, had he not been sitting next to that blond idiot who had singlehandedly ruined his Aimi's career, and now acted as if he owned the place. After calling the older woman 'baa-chan' numerous times and whining that he was thirsty the woman seemed almost ready to put her cigarette out on his face, and he wouldn't blame her. But after a while he too quieted down and aimed his lopsided grin at him. "I really hope he's okay, you didn't see it, but she really hit him hard…" His smile turned into a sad one and he stared down at his own clasped hands. "All I really do is get him in trouble, I can't even imagine how hard it must be for him to try and get ahead while the entire geisha community hates him, and now I've gone ahead and made it even worse." Kisame couldn't hate him, he just couldn't. Not while the guy was already beating himself up about it. But that didn't mean he liked him either! Not one bit. He stood and respectfully asked the mother if it would be alright for him to take a look at the garden and the boy, who had gone stomping up the stairs and had just recently come stomping back down, showed him the way. The kid was wearing a red and purple kimono-like thing, with golden embroidery, and he found himself wondering how such a thing would look on Aimi. Maybe he should get him a nice gift to cheer him up sometime.

The garden was small, but beautiful. He sat on the small deck with his back to the house, next to a copper, flower-shaped rainchain. There was a large basin in the far corner, with a cobblestone path leading to it, nearly overgrown by lush plants and flowers. The rhythmic sound of the bamboo tipping fountain and the warm sun lulled him into a sleepy contentedness he wasn't quite used to. There were chirping birds hiding in the shrubbery, and he didn't want to leave.

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When Itachi arrived downstairs Kisame was nowhere to be seen; only Naruto sat in the middle of the room, sipping from a glass of soda while Konan was staring daggers at him. "Did he leave?" he asked the blue-haired woman, who shook her head and gestured to the sliding doors leading to the garden. He nodded. "Naruto?" The young man, who was lost in his own mind, was startled and stood quickly, spilling his drink on himself in the process. Itachi sighed and gestured for him to follow, while he walked to the front door. There he took the glass from him and set it down on the small table that usually only held a small bouquet of flowers and two firestones for luck. "You should go now." And he opened the door. But Naruto didn't move, instead he just stood there, grinning sheepishly. "You look really pretty, you know." Itachi didn't look at him, but took a step back and pointed at the door. "Really, you should-" "I'm sorry. I know that I got you in a lot of trouble, and that I'm an idiot, but I really care about you… please don't choose him over me."

Itachi looked up, into those desperate blue eyes. He unwillingly lifted his hand and let his fingers ghost over the scars on the other's face, scars that were there because of him. "Answer me this: How much money do you have on your name right now?" Naruto rummaged around in his pockets a bit before answering. "I….'ve got about 2,000 yen in my pockets, and I own a fruit cart with a lot of fruit on it. But does that really matter? Money never mattered when it came to us before, right?" Itachi bit his lip, it hurt and one of his scabs came off, he could taste blood again. "It _always_ mattered. This okiya _owns_ me. You will never be able to pay mine and my brother's purchase price, nor the costs of us living there all these years, my geisha school and everything. And even if you could, you wouldn't know what to do with me, you wouldn't be able to get me jobs and I would pretend to be happy." He dropped his hands and balled his fists by his side. "But I wouldn't be happy, I'd slowly waste away and you wouldn't even notice. You've never heard me play my music. You've never seen me dance. You actually dared to call me out and tell me you liked me better without my paint, remember? That I changed? That I never smiled anymore?"

Suddenly everything was coming out, everything he never even knew he was keeping bottled up inside of him came pouring out and it felt good, so very good to _finally_ throw off everything that was weighing him down for so long. His voice got a nasty sneer to it. "Well guess what? Of course I don't fucking smile! Everyone in this town either wants to fuck me or hates me, my own big sister is trying to turn me into a prostitute, my brother is a spoilt little cunt that just keeps racking on more debt for me to pay off every day, and then you come along! Pushing around your cart with not a care in the world and you dare to call me out on _not smiling so much anymore_? Get out." When Naruto didn't move, but instead shook his head and dared to sadly look down on him he lost it. "OUT. NOW." and he forcefully shoved the other against the opposite wall. The vase with flowers in it toppled over but he didn't care. "Have I really hurt you so?" Itachi kicked him in the shin, hard. "I SAID NOW." and he pushed him again. Naruto looked about ready to cry, but he couldn't find it in him to care anymore. "Are you deaf as well as stupid?" And he broke, Naruto's heart broke and he couldn't help it, the person he loved the most in the world, the only one who sometimes talked to him and accepted him hated him. He did no effort to try and wipe away the tears running down his cheeks, but stared into the coal eyes in front of them. They held no warmth, not anymore, not for him. "I'm so sorry, all I ever wanted to do was love you, I'm so sorry." And he left.

For a while Itachi just stood there. Then he got himself together, closed the sliding door on the spectators outside and picked up the vase. He took it to the kitchen, poured more water in it and picked up a sponge to dry the hall. After he threw the now soaked sponge back in the sink and took a few deep breaths he felt ready to face the other man in his life. He was a master of deception after all, he could do this.

He found Kisame sitting in the garden, running his fingers over the copper rainchain. "You should see it when it's actually raining, looks like liquid gold." He sat down next to him, and the man smiled. "I'll make sure to come over when the weather is looking grim sometimes then, if you don't mind?" Itachi briefly let his fingers ghost over the other's hand, before quickly pulling away as if he hadn't intended to do so. "I wouldn't mind at all, after all, I have a lot to thank you for, don't I, mister Hoshigaki?" "What about your… friend?" Itachi stood, twisting slightly on his ankles to make his yukata swish around his feet, batted his eyelashes in the indistinguishable way that women were unfamiliar with and smiled. "He will not bother me, or you, ever again. So don't worry about that anymore." He walked over to the basin as smoothly as if he was floating, and fluttered down on the edge. "So," He dipped his fingers into the temporarily still water, disrupting his reflection. "Is there any way I can repay you?" Kisame didn't know quite what to say, the image he was looking at before seemed to have completely changed as soon as Aimi stepped into it. The colours were more vibrant, the sun brighter and the air lighter. Sitting at the edge of the water as he was, looking down into the basin, Kisame was looking at the perfect picture of serenity, more beautiful than he ever imagined it to be.

"Well you could answer me something?" Itachi looked up at him, and the sun put a golden sparkle in his eyes. "Anything for you." Kisame almost couldn't say it, he felt dirty to even think about such a thing with his amazing maiko. But he had to know, even though he knew it wouldn't matter to him if the answer wasn't what he desired. "Naruto. Do you love him? Have you… been with him?" A shadow fell over Aimi's face, and he immediately regretted his decision to ask. He awkwardly stood, and stuffed his hands down his pockets. "Never mind! It doesn't matter, really, I was just curious." Itachi stood without a sound, and floated back to him. "Kisame, do you find me professional?" "Yes, of course, your skill is admirable, even right now I'm barely noticing how you're winding me around your little pinky." He grinned a toothy grin, and Itachi smiled. "Then you also know how important it is for me to be pure, asking me if I've been with him… do you think I would deceive you like that? That I would throw away my career like that?" he smiled innocently, but his tone was serious. "I just wanted to check."

Itachi slowly brushed some non-existent dirt of the other's shoulder. "Indulging him in his elaborate fantasy of friendship was a mistake, one I shall not make again. I assure you, mister Hoshigaki, you have my fullest attention." Kisame turned and gestured towards the door. "I'm afraid I must take my leave now, but maybe you can repay me for saving you from all those crazy woman by giving me your fullest attention… tonight? During dinner?" "Naturally." After he'd escorted Kisame to the front door and let him out, this time without a scene, he turned and saw Konan starting at him. He had no doubts that she'd been eavesdropping on both his conversations. He slowly climbed up the stairs and fell down on his futon, exhausted. She'd looked proud. He felt disgusting.


End file.
